Sooner or Later
by morning.yearning
Summary: Returning home to Forks, Edward Cullen has hopes of finally making amends, only to find himself ostracized. He finds hope in the daughter of the Swans, a respected and influential family that are not what they seem. BxE, AH, AU, OOC.
1. Appearances

**Disclaimer: the characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, yada yada yada...**

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Collecting my things and signing the necessary papers took just a few short minutes. Then I was crossing the yard to the gate being opened for me. It was disconcerting how quickly it was all over. Before I knew it, I was stepping out into a quiet street where everything was just so extraordinarily ordinary.

I felt so overwhelmed and uncertain that I sank down shakily onto the sidewalk, needing to get my bearings and take everything in. The street was almost empty, but every now and then a cheap looking car would drive past or someone would go into the tiny newsagent a few feet away. No-one acknowledged or noticed me, which I was glad for; all I wanted to do, or even felt like I could do, was fade into the background for a while. I sat there for at least an hour, gazing into the distance at the grimy tower blocks that even the ferocious midday sun couldn't brighten, trying as hard as possible not to think about anything, not just yet.

After a while, my body had become numb and stiff from sitting on hard concrete for too long, and the sweltering heat had soaked my t-shirt through with sweat. Logical thoughts started to trickle in as night gradually fell and I shivered as the sweat turned cold. I stood up and stretched slowly, feeling disorientated when I realised I had hardly moved from the building behind me. Suddenly I knew that I needed to get away from there. I looked behind me one last time, and then I stepped into the newsagent to buy some cigarettes and a newspaper.

I didn't do any of the usual things on my first night on the outside. I didn't go to a strip joint, I didn't chase any tail and I didn't rush home to see my family. Instead, I walked. I walked and I smoked and I ate the best fucking hamburger of my life, but mostly I focused on not thinking about anything at all.

My muscles were burning, but I didn't want to stop. I wanted to walk this city my whole life, never faltering. Eventually though, reality set in - as it always does - when I realised that it was too late to go home now and I'd have to stay the night. Exhausted and barely conscious, I checked into the nearest and cheapest Motel I could find. My father had sent me enough money to cover the journey, but I had no idea if he was expecting me. I decided he must be, because he knew I had nowhere else to go.

*

As the train pulled out of the station early the next morning, the overwhelming realisation that I would be home soon hit me. For a few beautiful hours, I'd had no-one to answer to, no-one telling me what to do, no obligations or duties or certain ways in which I should act. Panic gripped me when I pictured seeing my father again for the first time in two years. I forced my racing mind to slow down and pushed my anxious thoughts to the back of my head. I didn't talk to anyone and stared out of the window for the rest of the journey.

Before long, the train had arrived at Washington station. I chain-smoked a few more cigarettes before hailing a cab. I tried to sleep in the car, but it was impossible. So instead I watched the countryside pass by again for a few more hours, trying to ignore the feeling of dread growing inside me. After a while, I began to recognise roads and street signs, and then suddenly, there it was; "The City of Forks Welcomes You". I started to laugh almost hysterically at the irony, tears streaming down my cheeks. I could see the cabbie staring at me, most likely thinking I was a damn crazy person.

I sobered up quickly when I realised we had pulled into the long, winding driveway that led up to my father's house. The dread returned, stronger than ever, and I considered asking the cabbie to turn straight back around, take me somewhere, anywhere else. Before I could convince myself that this would be a good idea, the cab had parked and I could see my father waiting for me on the front steps of my childhood home.

**Bella**

"You'll never guess whose back in Forks!" Tanya remarked conspiratorially over her roast lamb, eyebrows raised high.

I sighed loudly. Who cares? My mother shot me a look that plainly said "Nice young ladies _never_ sigh at the dinner table". I ignored her, and sighed again disinterestedly.

"Who, dear?" Renee replied. I always called my parents by their first names in my head, though I'd never dare to their faces.

"Well, I was out riding this afternoon where I usually do, and I passed the entrance to the Cullen property..." Tanya let this bombshell hang in the air for a moment as everyone gasped, including myself. I was interested now.

"Edward Cullen was turning up the driveway, in the back of a cab," she confirmed, and leantf back in her chair, clearly satisfied that her nosiness had once again come to good use.

"Already? Absurd!" Charlie exclaimed. "Boy should have been left where he was to rot. Or at least moved to a funny farm for the rest of his life."

"Daddy!" I glared at him, although barely shocked that he could be so openly crass. He didn't even glance at me.

"I do feel sorry for poor Carlisle - the boy must be such a terrible burden to him." Renee murmured.

"I should think so. I've never understood how an upstanding citizen like Carlisle has managed to raise such an out of control child," Charlie agreed. "Anyway, I'm sure the last two years have taught him a thing or two about respect and behaving like a man."

I huffed in annoyance. Would they _ever _forgive him his mistake? Would anyone? Two years seemed like a long time to still be bearing grudges.

I asked to be excused as quickly as I could. Tanya rolled her eyes at me. Whatever. Not everyone could be a prissy little suck-up like her.

"Yes, go on then," Renee told me in an irritated tone.

I raced up the stairs to my bedroom. I could just see the lights of the Cullen's house shining through the trees. I sat on the windowsill watching them until I was stiff and falling asleep. When I finally collapsed into bed I was exhausted, but I tossed and turned for hours.


	2. Picking Up the Past

**Disclaimer: the characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, yada yada yada...**

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**Edward**

I was paralysed to the spot and every one of my muscles was tensed as one of the huge front doors swung open to reveal my father.

I noticed immediately that he looked older, a few grey strands streaking his thick blonde hair, and a slight gut starting to form on his once toned physique. His eyes swept over me quickly, before settling on my own. We stood and stared at each other in silence for a horribly tense length of time. Carlisle's expression was stony and unrelenting. I was simply hoping that he would break the silence before I had to. Eventually he did, with a curt,

"Come in, then."

I picked up my small bag and shuffled reluctantly towards the front door. Carlisle was still watching me intently as I tripped over the first step. I could feel beads of sweat prickling at my forehead and I was sure my anxiety was rolling off me in palpable waves. As I neared the door, I spotted my stepmother hovering behind my father. She smiled at me far too brightly, her cheeks flushed looking. Well, at least it was past noon. I nodded back at her, resisting the urge to yell that two years in the slammer don't change fuckin' anything. But then I remembered that I had come back here for a reason.

"Hullo, Esme." I forced a smile, but I was sure the disdain must have been evident in my eyes as her face fell, guessing what I had refrained from saying out loud.

"You must be hungry, darling," Esme simpered slightly too loudly as I stared blankly back at her. Her expression faltered again when I didn't answer. "Th-well, there's tea, and some cakes in the kitchen if you'd like."

I shook my head infinitesimally, and looked towards Carlisle.

"May I go upstairs? It was a long journey." My voice sounded flat and unconvincing; I was tired of putting on an act already. Baby steps, I reassured myself.

Carlisle shot me an angry glare, looking like he was about to say something about my lack of manners, but he didn't. He simply nodded at me, and I didn't waste a moment in heading up to my bedroom.

It was exactly the same as I remembered it. A faded Persian rug that I'd never liked still lay across the wooden floorboards, my laptop was still closed upon my desk and the curtains were still a dull and dusty blue. I went to the window that overlooked the garden. The sun was shining brightly, and in the distance I could just make out the Swan house, looming formidably behind the trees. Traces of the river that wound through the forest glinted up at me. Anxiety gripped me again, but I squashed it down. I was determined not to let this place get to me. What I really needed was a smoke and a stiff drink. My mouth started to water at the prospect. Just as I was pondering over how much scotch to allow myself, I heard my father calling my name from downstairs.

"Edward! Come down."

I sighed to myself. Whatever happened to "tired after the journey"? I didn't answer and started down the stairs. Carlisle was waiting at the bottom for me.

"Get in the car; I'll be there in a minute."

I let myself out of the front door and went to sit in the passenger side of the same black Mercedes that Carlisle had had before I'd left. It was disgustingly flashy for little Forks. I could only imagine what kind of car Esme drove. Carlisle got in a few moments later, and we sped away without a word. I knew where we were going.

**Bella**

Not even the sun could wake me the next morning after my lack of sleep the night before. I ambled down to the garden at around midday with a book in hand. Noticing Renee and Tanya on the patio having tea, I sighed and did my best to slip past them, but to no avail.

"Isabella!"

"Yeh?"

"Don't be so uncouth. Have you just woken up?" Renee asked me sharply.

"Nah, I've been up since the ass-crack of dawn doing extra summer schoolwork. Why?" I replied sarcastically.

Unsurprisingly, Tanya rolled her eyes and Renee's face turned red with anger.

"You watch your mouth, young lady, or I will tell your father."

"So sorry, mother dearest."

I skipped off quickly, secure in the knowledge that she was far too frightened of her husband to do anything that might aggravate him. I couldn't help but let out some of my resentment towards her whenever Charlie wasn't around.

I reached the end of our large and perfectly manicured garden where I was out of sight of the house, and hopped to the other side of the tiny stream so I could sit in the shade of the forest. I settled back onto the cool, damp earth and dipped my bare toes into the water, smiling contentedly at the thick canopy above me that the sun could barely penetrate.

As I closed my eyes my thoughts immediately wandered to Edward, my book forgotten. I speculated over how Carlisle and Esme were treating him, and what he was planning on doing now that he was back in Forks. I itched to go and have a snoop around the Cullen's property to see if I could catch a glimpse of him, but the very idea made me feel like some kind of stalker. Surely there was some stupid lunch party coming up soon; he was bound to be invited. Forks loved nothing better than a good gossip.

I tried to picture Edward's strikingly beautiful face, wondering what two years in jail had done to him. I thought back to the last time I remembered seeing him, but quickly dismissed it. Instead I let my mind drift far further back, to a memory of us when we were children.

_I could taste the fear on my tongue, my hands gripping the handlebars so hard I thought my knuckles were going to break out of my skin. I was going far too fast, horribly fast, I realised frantically. After a few moments, I managed to remember to take hold of the brakes, and I relaxed slightly. Maybe I could do this, then they'd see I wasn't such a baby! I was in control now, not too fast, not too slow, and I was starting to actually enjoy myself as I got nearer to the bottom of the hill. _

_Seconds later, I saw a tiny field mouse scurrying across the tarmac in front of me, and then everything was going in slow motion as I slammed on the brakes and I was hurled over the handlebars. I landed sprawled on my front, and for a moment my face was frozen in shock before I burst into tears._

"_Oh Bella, what on earth did you stop so suddenly for?" Tanya called up to me exasperatedly._

_I looked to the bottom of the hill where the five of them were waiting for me. None of us moved for a moment. Then Edward dropped his bike, and shooting a look at the others, raced up the steep hill where I was lying._

_He crouched down beside me, looking over my snotty, teary-eyed face._

"_Where does it hurt?" he asked me gently. _

"_Ev-everywhere!" I bawled._

"_Can you try and sit up?"_

_I found that I could._

"_We should get you home. Look, you sit on your bike and I'll push you along."_

_I stared at him dubiously. He was really willing to abandon our picnic at the lake to take me home? I smiled my gap-toothed grin at him happily. None of the bigger boys ever even acknowledged me!_

"_Okay." _

_He turned back to the others. _

"_Hey, guys! I'm gonna take Bella home. She's cut up pretty bad."_

_Everyone shrugged and went back to their conversations - apart from Tanya._

"_Bella, stop being such a baby! You'll be fine on your own, you just had a little fall. Come on, Edward, don't worry about her." _

_I saw Edward pull a funny face._

"_Nah, she needs someone to take her home. I'll see you guys tomorrow."_

_Edward turned back to me, and helped me up. I could see Tanya staring up at us, an irritated expression on her face clearly visible from where we were standing. Soon however, they were all riding off into the distance._

I remembered my seven-year-old self thinking that Edward was such a hero, even more courageous than all the ones in my storybooks, and that one day, I'd marry him. As we'd both grown older, the hero worship had stopped. My love for him wasn't what I thought it was supposed to be; I didn't long to kiss him, or for him to ask me out on a date. I just knew that I had him in my heart, and I was often surprised that he didn't seem to know.

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**A/N I agree that this might sound like a period fic, but it is in fact set in the present day. Bella's family are just a little...strict and stiff-upper-lip. Also I'd just like to say thank you to americnxidiot for helping me out with the summary. And reviews are golden!**


	3. Crossing Over

******Disclaimer: the characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, yada yada yada...**

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**Edward**

We pulled up at the church a few minutes later, as I knew we would. I couldn't look at it, and instead I stared down at my lap where my hands were twisting together nervously. I had planned a speech and an apology, a promise that I was going to try this time, but I couldn't get the words out. Nothing had really changed, and I could only see myself as I was before.

"Look, then!" Carlisle snapped at me.

I forced my gaze to shift to the church.

"It's...it's exactly the same. As it was...before," I said in almost a whisper.

"Yes. The council helped a lot, but everyone chipped in a bit. Especially Charlie Swan, in fact. Everyone wanted it to look as much the same as possible."

I nodded, and dropped my gaze again. I was still twisting and squeezing my hands together aggressively. I needed the distraction of the discomfort. A few moments later, Carlisle interrupted the silence with a sharp, "Well?"

I looked up at him.

"Do you have anything to say?" he demanded, the anger and frustration plain on his face.

My eyes focused on the church again. I said nothing. We drove home without exchanging a word.

*

I was called down from my bedroom for dinner soon enough. The table had been set meticulously, and the dishes, silverware and china plates seemed ridiculous in contrast with the meals I had been having for the last two years.

We began to eat in silence as Carlisle poured red wine for himself and Esme. I argued with myself about asking for a glass, but decided to keep quiet unless I was offered it. The silence was suffocating. Although I felt ridiculous and pathetic for even thinking it, I suddenly yearned for the rowdy prison canteen. This was too tense and self-conscious, the reason I'd loathed being at home before.

"So, Edward," Esme addressed me nervously. "Have you thought about what you're going to do with your time now you're home?" She shot me a small smile, eyebrows raised.

"He's going to get a job," Carlisle cut in.

"I'm going to get a job," I agreed, looking back down at my food.

Carlisle set his cutlery down and fixed his eyes on me. He took a deep breath. I sighed inwardly.

"Now Edward, you understand that if you want forgiveness from me, or from anyone for that matter, you're going to have to listen to what I'm about to say. Everyone is harbouring some bitterness towards you, but I'm sure people would be willing to forgive and forget if you keep your head down and work hard. You are going to get a job, and I'm going to be generous enough to ask Charlie Swan to find you one. You are _not_ going to drink. You're going to be polite at all times, especially in company, and if you want a car or money you'll earn it yourself. If I hear from anyone that your behaviour has been less than impeccable, I will be furious. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," I replied coolly. Carlisle's upper lip twitched. That habit clearly hadn't changed. Before I could stop myself, I sniggered almost inaudibly.

"GET OUT!"

My head snapped up in shock. Carlisle was glaring at me with unadulterated fury raging across his features. We locked eyes for a moment, before I pushed my chair back roughly and left the room.

"Carlisle, calm down!" I heard Esme exclaim in a high-pitched voice.

"I EXPECTED NOTHING LESS THAN GODDAMN GROVELLING FROM THAT BOY! AND HE HAS THE AUDACITY TO LAUGH IN MY FUCKING FACE!" I heard Carlisle's fist slam down on the table, and then a loud clatter.

I was angry with myself, and I knew Carlisle was right. I ran upstairs to grab my cigarettes before making my way hurriedly back down. Passing the dining room, I could hear Esme sobbing as Carlisle ranted on. I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped out into the garden, shutting the French doors behind me.

I wandered slowly away from the house, cigarette in hand. I reached the end of the garden and sat down on the decaying tyre swing that hung from an old oak tree. The tree had been dying for years now, but I remembered a tree surgeon visiting once and not being able to find anything wrong with it. After a few minutes had passed, I saw a light go on upstairs. That was my bedroom, I realised. Then I noticed that my window frame looked slightly different to the others. I pondered this for a moment until a memory from over five years ago suddenly flashed into my mind.

_I was shaking violently and my breaths were coming out by themselves in short sharp gasps. Silent sobs wracked my body and tears were streaming down my feverish cheeks. I pulled at my hair viciously, and then I was coughing as hard as I could until I felt sick. I tried to wretch because I just wanted to get it out out out, but it didn't work and I was desperate. I noticed Carlisle looking at my smashed window in horror and at the same moment he noticed me, curled up behind the door. He approached me slowly, navigating my wrecked room, and then he was grabbing my arms and all I wanted to do was get him off me so I kicked and struggled against him._

"_Stop it! Just stop that and be quiet!" he yelled, still attempting to subdue me._

_After a while I couldn't fight anymore so I stopped but I couldn't stop the sobs from tearing through my throat. I pressed my face into my knees and tried to make myself go numb. _

"_Millie! Come here!"_

"_God – Edward! Is he okay?"_

"_He's hysterical. Just take him out, will you, and I'll clean this up."_

"_No, _you _take him out. Let's stick to our proper jobs, shall we?"_

_Carlisle pulled me up by the armpits and supported me out into the hallway, setting me down in the spare room. He wouldn't stop pacing backwards and forwards and it was making me nervous, but then he was talking to me and that was even worse._

"_This...this unprovoked violence, it's got to stop, Edward. It's unhealthy, and dangerous. You're going back to your psychiatrist, and you're going to converse with him properly this time."_

_I had nothing to say to him, I rarely ever did._

"_Do you understand? You've got to learn to control yourself...it's just, it's just not –healthy, it's not right. I'll fix an appointment up with Dr. Corin for next week."_

I was pulled out of my reverie with a lurch when I heard Esme murmur my name softly. I turned to face her, and with a shaking hand I lit myself another cigarette. I offered her one, but she declined.

"Are you alright?"

I nodded, without looking at her. There was a long pause. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her shooting sidelong glances at me every so often, and it was really quite irritating.

"I'm sorry...that we never came. To visit you," Esme said quietly, breaking the silence.

"I didn't expect you to."

"Your father missed you, you know. He's just – well, you know how he is. Difficult to get through to."

I scoffed at her, remembering the first few months when I had written long, pathetic letters to Carlisle - which he never replied to - begging him to come and see me.

"Like hell he did."

She sighed, and stayed silent for a few moments.

"Just try not to aggravate him, okay? He's trying, really, to make things better. As should you be."

A cutting remark was on the tip of my tongue but I bit it back.

"Okay." I couldn't think of anything else to say.

She stretched out her hand to touch my forearm but I moved it, shoving my hands in my pocket. She stared up at me imploringly, her eyes searching, and then left without a word.

I needed to get away from the house, so I headed into the forest that separated the edge of our property from the Swan's estate. It wasn't getting dark yet, but beneath the trees it felt like twilight. I smiled when I spotted the hammock that I used to lie in for hours was still there, and climbed into it. Before long, I was drifting into a fitful sleep.

*

I woke with a start a few hours later, panicking when all I could see was black. I started thrashing around, my foot getting tangled up in the ropes of the hammock. I remembered where I was just as I landed heavily on the damp forest floor. I lay there for a while, waiting for my breathing to return to normal and the sense of dread growing inside me to subside. It had been the same old nightmare again, the nightmare I had eventually stopped having while I was in prison. It was flashes of different images, dredged up from my ten-year-old memory; me lying in a pool of my own vomit, hints of pale white barely visible beneath dark water, the smell of damp earth, shouting and voices coming through walkie talkies. And worst of all the same dread I was feeling now but amplified to unbearable proportions. I tried to force my mind to go blank again, to push it all back down. It didn't work, so I made my way back to the house, hoping upon hope that Carlisle was asleep so I could fix myself a scotch.

**Bella**

I was awoken abruptly by a loud crash followed by heavy footsteps. I shook myself quickly out of sleep and sat up, listening intently to try and find out what was going on.

"You stupid, clumsy woman!" I heard Charlie bellowing furiously.

I crept downstairs as quietly as possible. I could hear faint sobs coming from the kitchen, and then a loud _slap_. Familiar tears pricked my eyes as I heard Renee cry out in pain.

"Clean this up, now!"

I heard the footsteps again, thunderous and uneven on wooden floorboards. I ran back upstairs, light on my feet, and threw myself under my bed.

The footsteps were now getting louder and louder, and then my door was being thrown open. I heard heavy breathing and then a grunt as the door was slammed shut again. I let out a sigh of relief.

I stayed where I was, staring up at the bedsprings. I wished more than anything that Renee would stand up for herself and go to the police, or at the very least talk to someone about what was going on under the roof of the Swan's mansion. But she never did, and I doubted she ever would, no matter how hard I tried to convince her. She simply ignored me, or told me to mind my own business. This life was all she had, and I think she considered herself lucky to have married Forks' most influential and respected citizen. She was probably more scared of the mortification of the whole town knowing than anything. My feelings towards her were in a constant battle of resentment and pity, and I only seemed to be able to feel love when Charlie was being cruel or violent. She always followed his example, choosing to ignore me most of the time and doting on Tanya.

I headed back downstairs again, to see how Renee was doing. She hated it when I even acknowledged the way Charlie treated her, but I had to make sure she was okay. I remained light on my feet, hoping not to run into him. I found Renee in the kitchen, mopping the floor. As always she looked perfectly composed and exactly the same as normal, apart from a bright red hand mark on her cheek.

I stood in the doorway, watching her. She didn't react to my presence.

"Are you okay?"

"Will you go and tidy your room, it's a mess," she ordered in a sharp voice, not looking up.

I sighed heavily. My room was almost spotless.

"Mom –"

"Now!"

*

Some time later, I was coming downstairs when I heard the doorbell ring. Looking over the balcony on the first floor, I saw Tanya cross the hallway and open one of the front doors.

"Oh, hello!" I heard her say uncertainly to whoever was at the door.

I peered through the gaps in the railings, curious to see who could make Tanya sound uncertain. I was sure my heart stopped when I saw the mop of messy, uniquely coloured bronze hair. Even from a distance I could tell that two years in prison had turned the boy into a man. Edward still took my breath away. I couldn't help but laugh at myself, feeling silly for using such a cliché.

"Hi, Tanya. How are you?"

His voice was deeper now and more masculine, and I could still detect that something in it I had never found a word for – hurt? Anguish? Grief? I felt the familiar urgent need to take care of him, love him. The tears started falling before I could hold them back. God, I was a mess. I couldn't see him like this.

"Great, thanks. Yourself?" I was relieved to find that Tanya was being polite.

"Well, still readjusting you know. It's, um, good to be home."

"It must be, I'm sure."

"Is your father around? I've come about a job."

"He's in his study, I think. I'll show you where it is."

"Thanks."

I quickly moved out of sight as I heard their footsteps move away. I sat down heavily, feeling overwhelmed. Everything felt so different now – I didn't really know Edward at all anymore, and I was positive he barely remembered me. After a while, I found myself wondering what he and Charlie were talking about. I crept downstairs to Charlie's office, and fortunately I could hear what was being said through the door.

"Your father tells me you're willing to make a new start."

"That's right."

There was a pause, and I could just imagine Charlie standing at the window, hands clasped behind his back.

"Well, I think you've probably already guessed I'm not going to give you a job with the firm. You'll be doing dry stone walling around the estate mostly, among other odd jobs. Wilson will show you everything you need. Now, as I've said to your father, I think it's perfectly reasonable to suggest that you donate 25 percent of your earnings to Forks, to at least show you've made an effort to repay the damage that was done to the church."

There was another pause, and I anxiously waited for Edward's reply.

"Of course."

"You may as well start tomorrow. Report to Wilson at 9am, he should be..."

I skulked away again, fairly pleased at the turn of events. Edward was going to be working in our fields all day – I had more than enough excuses to run into him. For now, I realised that I wanted to see him face to face more than anything, random outbursts of tears or not.

*

I couldn't sit still. I sat with crossed-legs, then I leant back on my elbows, then I was leaning against a tree...I just couldn't get comfortable, make myself feel casual. I felt stupid for not bringing a book or something out with me, because now it was obvious I was waiting for him. Or just sitting on the ground in a forest for no reason.

Suddenly, I had a moment of inspiration when I spotted something growing under a tree that looked like it could be used for cooking. I sat down close to it, waiting for Edward to appear through the gate in the fence that separated our garden from the forest. I was almost certain he would come this way, as it made his journey home about fifteen minutes shorter.

My heart was hammering and my palms were sweating, knowing he was going to walk through the gate at any second. Luckily, the 'cooking herb' was growing just a little way off the path, so I should see him before he saw me.

Then, I heard the gate handle rattling and it was being pushed open.

He was just as glorious as I remembered, and I felt consumed and utterly captivated by him. He was much taller now – at least 6 foot, and looked far more muscular. He used to be almost as skinny as me, but I assumed prison made you bulk out quite a bit.

Then he was walking past me and he hadn't noticed I was there, so I hurriedly ripped up the whole plant and jumped up.

I saw his head snap round at the noise I made, and then he was looking straight at me.

"Jesus fuck! You scared the shit out of me!"

He broke eye contact after a few moments, probably freaked out by my staring, and I was able to talk.

"Sorry. I was just...picking some herbs. For my mom." I looked down at the plant in my hand that I had just pulled out of the ground, roots and all, and held it out for him to see. I felt unbearably awkward.

"Right. Well, I hope you're not planning on using that for cooking or anything, 'cause you'll get a stomach upset."

"Oh...right, well, I wasn't sure..." I trailed off, feeling like an idiot as my cheeks heated up uncomfortably.

"Anyway, how've you been, Bebba?"

He smirked at me, and I glared back. I used to introduce myself as Bebba when I was very little, and it had stuck until I was about twelve and refused to answer to it.

"It's Bella now."

"Of course, sorry," he apologised. "Nice to see you, Bella."

He gave me a little wave and a quick smile, and then he was disappearing out of sight.

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**A/N Reviews are always gratefully received of course.**


	4. He Who Has The Gold

**Disclaimer: the characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, yada yada yada...**

**A/N Sorry this took so long!**

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**Edward**

The rusty knocker made a satisfying _bang bang bang, _but Wilson did not answer the door. I peered through every grimy window in case he was seriously deaf or something, but Wilson was not in his cottage as Charlie had said he would be.

The cottage was on the edge of the Swan's estate tucked away into the forest, so I assumed it came with the job of being the groundskeeper. It was ramshackle on the outside, and disgustingly dirty and cluttered on the inside. I'd expected it to be as scrupulously well-kept as the Swan's grounds. Clearly this guy took his job very seriously.

After I'd smoked my last two cigarettes and twenty minutes had passed, I decided to head up to the house to try and find out what had happened to Wilson. I was just letting myself through the garden gate when I saw a short, wiry-looking man hunched over a spade, staring straight at me.

"You, boy!"

I faltered, then shut the gate quietly behind me.

"Yeah?" I replied slowly, meeting his fixed gaze.

"You my new assistant?" I realised he had a thick English accent, and I was pretty sure it wasn't the Queen's English.

"You Wilson?"

Ignoring my question, he replied gruffly, "First day on the job, an' you're late."

"No, I'm not – you weren't in –"

"I'll 'av no gip, thanks very much. I know where you's been for the last two years. Dunno what yer old man did to deserve a son like you."

"Funnily enough, people keep telling me that."

I was sure I saw him smirk beneath his bushy grey beard.

"Well, boy, I hope you realise there'll be no slackin'. It'll be 'ard work, every day without fail. In case spendin' the last two years in the nick didn't toughen you up enough. Or it turned you into a fairy," he cackled, and I glowered back at him.

"Just show me what I need to do."

"Well, you just follow me and we'll get to work. It's already 'alf nine. Don't be late again, you 'ear me?"

"I wasn't –"

But he was already striding away, with surprising speed for someone who looked to be in their sixties at least. I hurried after him.

*

I could do this. I could do this mindless manual labor all day every day, as dull as it was. Dull was fine in fact, as long as I was kept occupied. I hadn't come back to Forks to sit around doing nothing.

Wilson had left me alone in a field of cows, shovelling their shit into a wheelbarrow. Apparently, "'Beautiful old Bessie' don't like walkin' around in the stink all day," and "Dry stone walling's a man's job, and I jus' don't think yer balls are up to it yet."

He left me straight away, muttering something under his breath about babysitting ex-convicts. I didn't mind at all, feeling most at ease when left in solitude. The cows were my only company, but we kept as far away from each other as possible. Which was fortunate, because I kept getting the urge to shovel a spadeful of shit onto "Beautiful old Bessie's" droopy head.

Truthfully though, I was grateful for the job. My father had been right in saying that if the town I had grown up in was going to accept me back into their community, I needed to work my ass off and keep my head down. Worst of all, Carlisle would expect me to make endless hours of polite conversation at the numerous dinner parties and events that Forks loved to host -- not that I really cared about what a bunch of superficial snobs thought of me. Besides, Charlie Swan's was the only opinion that really mattered to Carlisle, because everyone else would follow. "He who has the gold makes the rules" had always applied perfectly to Charlie. So to earn my father's forgiveness I would need his first.

I thought back to my first few months in prison, remembering how my outlook had changed over the past two years. I had been adamant that I wouldn't and couldn't ever return to Forks. I had decided that my life was over here, that I needed to move on and start anew, completely independently.

I had spent hours considering what I was going to do when I got out, but drew a blank and eventually realized I had nowhere else to go. As awful as some of my childhood memories from Forks were, I knew I couldn't cut it out of my life forever. Two years in jail gives you so much time to reflect and endlessly think things over. Sooner or later, everything is put into perspective. So, I knew that I had to go home. I was just going to take one day at a time, starting with this god-awful job.

After an hour or so of toiling away in the blistering heat, my back and shoulders were aching and I was sweating buckets. I was determined not to stop though; I didn't want Wilson to think I was a pussy. Something about the toughness of that old guy made me want to prove myself to him. Fortunately, he appeared at about one o'clock to tell me I could take a lunch break. Or rather he yelled at me from about thirty yardsaway.

"'Ere, lad! Take a break. No more 'an 'alf an hour though!"

I nodded and saluted him from across the field. I found shade beneath a huge oak tree, and devoured the ham and cucumber sandwich Esme had made for me. Then I went straight back to work.

In all honesty, I was getting pretty fucking bored of cow shit. I was fairly certain Wilson was just testing me before letting me do the real jobs. So be it, I wasn't in a position to complain. I almost kissed his bristly whiskers when he appeared at the field gate again a few hours later.

"You can cop off now, boy. Nine o' clock sharp tomorrow mornin', an' don't be late again or I'll 'av yer guts for garters!"

What did that even mean? Bloody English and their ridiculous idioms.

*

As expected, dinner was once again a painfully tense and awkward affair. Carlisle asked me how my job was going. I told him it was expanding my mind in new and exciting ways. Esme managed to sustain a one-sided conversation for five minutes about some scandalous affair that had been going on for a year. I could care less. I doubted Carlisle did either.

Then, came the inevitable moment I had been dreading.

"So, Edward, we've been invited to a dinner party at the Swan's in a few days time. I'm sure you're looking forward to seeing everyone again," Esme remarked in an annoyingly chirpy way. "Tanya and Bella will be there, of course."

"Sounds fantastic," I reached for the bottle of red wine greedily.

"You've already had a glass, Edward."

I rolled my eyes at my father irritably. I hadn't had a drop in the last two years – did he not think I could handle a couple of glasses of wine with a meal? In fact, it was pretty much necessary when having dinner with Carlisle and Esme.

"Anyway," Carlisle continued. "As Esme was saying, everyone will be there so I think this would be a good time to apologise."

I gaped at him, disbelieving.

"What?"

"Well, Charlie thought it would be a good idea if you just stood up and made a little speech – "

"Charlie would, wouldn't he! And then he'd probably try and shoot me down in front of everyone! Forks doesn't like to air its dirty laundry anyway. I don't want to remind people of it. I just want to show that I can act like one of them again."

"Everyone deserves an apology, not forgetting all of the other incidents. And, Charlie's given you a job, you owe it to him at least."

"I'll do whatever it takes, I can show I'm sorry a million ways. I'll read to old ladies, clean the church toilets for free. But is this really what you want me to do? Stand up at a dinner party and make a speech asking for their forgiveness, while they all sit there judging me? I haven't even had a chance to prove myself yet!"

There was a short pause, and all that could be heard was my heavy breathing, before I started off again.

"No matter how many times I tell you that it's the truth, you're never gonna believe it was an accident. You're like the rest of them; believe what you want to believe."

"There were incidents, Edward, that were most certainly not accidental."

"Oh, fuck off, Carlisle. It wasn't an accident either when you disrespected my mother's name by remarrying a...a goddamn child bride five months - later!" I trailed off angrily. We were both on our feet now, faces red. Esme cowered in her seat.

"Don't you dare bring your mother into this, Edward. And you have no right to speak about Esme that way!"

"I will bring her into it, 'cause it's true. The thing is, you're too goddamn fixated about what everyone else thinks, about what fucking Charlie Swan has to say. So you hide behind Esme the whole time, to stop yourself from fucking up in front of everyone like I did. Mom never gave a shit about what other people thought, and it didn't fucking matter!"

"I said leave her out of – "

"And you can't even say her fucking name! It's Elizabeth! My mother's name is Elizabeth, and don't you ever fucking forget it!"

The tension was unbearably heavy and, for a moment no one moved. I had nothing more to say, and apparently, neither did Carlisle.

When we locked eyes for a split second, I could see every one of my emotions reflected on his face. So, I stormed out violently -- the second time in as many dinners.

**Bella**

I was dragged out of my heavy slumber by a cheerful voice yelling, "Knock knock!" from the other side of my bedroom door.

I rolled over, and stretched widely.

"Who is it?" I called out curiously, mid yawn.

The door handle shook as the unidentified person tried to enter.

"Ugh, why is this door so _stiff_!"

I frowned indignantly, figuring it was probably the latest cookie cutter blonde bimbo Tanya had befriended who couldn't remember that her room was a floor below mine.

"Because it's locked!" I yelled back.

"Well, are you going to unlock it then?"

"You still haven't told me who you are! For all I know you could be trying to gain entry so you can ... defile my virtue," I cackled to myself. That should throw 'em.

"Oh, for crying out..." the muffled voice growled. "My name is Alice, but I'd like to introduce myself when I can actually see your face if that would be quite alright with you? And I wouldn't worry about your virtue. I'm a hundred percent straight, thank you very much."

She wanted to introduce herself? Who was this Alice?

"Finally," I heard her exclaim as I unlocked and opened the door.

"You have some serious trust issues," she told me knowingly, nodding to herself.

I ignored her comment, taking in her appearance instead. Alice was ... shorter than most, but the word short just didn't seem to suit her. Petite, I decided. I couldn't help but be stunned by the way she seemed so perfectly presented, from her long red nails to her shiny, dark brown bob. It was intimidating, to say the least. Not to mention her beauty – every one of her features was finely and perfectly formed.

"Uh, hi."

"I'm Alice. Alice Brandon, that is. Nice to meet you," she grinned widely, sticking her hand out for me to shake.

"Yeah, you too, I'm sure. Who let you –"

I wanted to be annoyed at her for interrupting me a moment later, but I got the feeling she didn't really mean to. Words just seemed to fall out of her mouth in an excited flurry.

"I brought some cookies over for you, I just _know _you'll love them! Everyone does. I'm afraid they're not home-baked. I mean, I love the _idea_ of cooking, know what I mean?"

I didn't really.

"But I'm just no good at it," she sighed dramatically. Disastrous, in fact. Still, I know where to _buy_ absolutely amazing cookies."

She grinned widely, showing me a set of – unsurprisingly - perfect pearly whites, and held out a paper bag in which I assumed the cookies were in.

"I'm flattered, but I still don't really know who I should thank? And who let you in?" I raised an eyebrow at her.

A tiny hand flew to her mouth. "Ugh, I am always doing this. I just get so carried away! So sorry. I'm Alice, and I just moved in next door. Well, I say next door, but my house must be miles away, your estate is huge! Oh, and the maid let me in, she was very helpful."

"Next door? You - what did you say your name was? How do you know the Cullens?" I awaited her reply anxiously, only breathing a sigh of relief when I saw the confusion in her eyes.

"Never heard of them," Alice said slowly, looking at me curiously. She must have noticed my odd reaction. "Do they live on the other side, then? You must introduce me! I just moved in with my Mom. Her name's Mary."

"Oh. Right. Well, Alice, it's nice to meet you and thank you so much for the cookies, I'm sure they're delicious."

"They are, trust me. Anyways, I better be off, I've got a lot to do! I can't wait to start decorating. Come and see it when I'm done, I'll give you a tour!"

Then, unexpectedly, she pulled me into a tight hug. I hugged her back stiffly, surprising myself when I didn't want to let go.

"I can't wait to get to know you, Bella! Enjoy the cookies!"

"Uh, yeah, bye! Wait...how did..."

But she'd already whirled out of the door at full tilt, leaving me reeling, still trying to remember whether or not I'd told her my name.

*

The rest of the day passed uneventfully – as always. I kept myself occupied by reading or wandering through the forest. In truth, I was quite excited that someone my age had moved in next door. I was a solitary person by nature, but going to boarding school had left me pretty much friendless at home. I hadn't really had any friends in Forks before anyway; Tanya ignored me, so mostly everyone else did too.

A scorching sunny day soon turned into a stiflingly hot night. The air was thick and muggy, and I tossed and turned in bed for an hour before giving up. I always tried to get to sleep far earlier than I needed to, simply out of boredom.

I decided to wander the garden in my pajamas, as I often did at night when I couldn't sleep. Everything was absolutely still and silent, and the moonlight offered more than enough light. I slowly meandered my way past the perfectly manicured bushes and hideously tacky swan-shaped fountain. I'd always hated how styled and pretentious the garden was - I loved the beauty of the wild and untamed forest.

Soon enough, I reached the end of the garden. I considered heading back to bed, but honestly I had no desire to. The night had that still but intense kind of atmosphere that I loved. I let myself out the gate into the forest. It was far darker beneath the canopy of the trees, but I wasn't afraid. I knew the forest like the back of my hand.

I stood for a moment, gazing upward and admiring the silhouettes of thousands of branches against the starry night sky.

"Beautiful," I murmured to myself.

"It is, isn't it."

"Fuck!"

I jumped, my heart beating fast. My head whipped in the direction of the quiet chuckling -- Edward's chuckle. I assumed the feet dangling out of the tree were Edward's too. I realised they were poking out a window of my childhood treehouse.

"Now whose turn is it to have the shit scared out of 'em?" I called up to him, still recovering from my fright.

I heard some more chuckling, and then a slurred "Sorry, Bebba..."

I realised he sounded really quite drunk.

"Come up. Join me. The view is magnificent," he sniggered.

"What are you doing up there, Edward?"

"Drinking, of course. I used to drink a lot here, 'fore I got thrown in the slammer."

"I think you should get down. It's probably not safe to be up there in your state."

"Sshhh, stop worrying Bella. C'mon, come up or I might fall dooooown!"

I couldn't very well leave him there like that -- not that I'd ever want to anyway -- so I climbed the ladder and crawled in.

With Edward's lanky frame sprawled out, I had no choice but to curl up in the corner. The treehouse wasn't huge, but it was sturdy and beautifully built. Charlie had bought it for Tanya's 11th birthday, but she had never really used it. Apparently, both Edward and I had in the past though.

"What are you drinking?" I asked casually.

"Straight Jack. You want some?"

Edward sat up slowly, looking unstable and disorientated. He pulled his knees up to his chest so I shuffled forward a bit into the space he had made, and took the bottle.

"Yeah," I replied quietly.

I took a small sip, and promptly started coughing violently. Ugh, I could never take straight spirits very well.

Edward was watching me, a lazy grin spreading across his face. I raised an eyebrow at him. His eyes were bloodshot and drooping, and his hair even more dishevelled than usual with twigs and leaves sticking out everywhere. His face was still perfection though. I felt like I could stare at him forever and never want to stop.

"See something you like, Bebba?" he remarked, a cheeky smirk replacing the grin.

I looked away, embarrassed, and took another hit of Jack. I hated the way I turned into a complete idiot when in close proximity with Edward.

"Just wondering if ex-convicts look any different than normal people," I replied snarkily.

There was a pause, then Edward startedchuckling again, "Touché."

He seemed so young again, like this. I remembered the blank expression he wore to mask his emotions, those he kept tightly bundled inside. I wondered if his laughter meant he was happy, or if it was simply the alcohol. God, I needed to stop psycho analyzing or whatever it was I was doing.

Edward had a handful of leaves and was in the process of shredding them into tiny pieces.

"Edward! Your hand!" I gasped, immediately noticing the rather nasty-looking gash on it.

"It's nothing, Bebba," he sighed.

"It most certainly is not nothing! How did you do it?"

He seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"Umm, maybe when I was climbing the tree. I'm not so good at climbing trees as I used to be, y'know? Haven't had much practice recently." He started giggling to himself again at this. God, he really needed to sober up.

"Look, just stay here and I'll get some stuff to clean it with."

"Whatever you say. Hey, can you pick up another bottle of Jack while you're gone?"

I scoffed at him and rolled my eyes.

"Thanks, Bebba." He smirked at me without waiting for a reply.

I saw him close his eyes and stretch out as I left the tree house. Ridiculously drunk as he was, I couldn't help but feel completely thrilled to be in his presence again.

I raced my way back up to the house, and quickly grabbed a first aid kit and some blankets, before making my way back to the tree house.

Edward appeared to be fast asleep when I climbed back up, so I attempted to clean and patch his cut without waking him. As soon as I started applying antiseptic though, his eyes fluttered open. I felt my breathing hitch as his green eyes met my brown ones.

"Thank you, Bella," he mumbled in almost a whisper.

I smiled when he used my proper name. "No problem, Edward."

His eyes closed again, so I carried on with my job. I was no doctor, but I reckoned I had done a pretty decent job.

"Edward, I'm done. You should probably get back to your house now," I told him quietly.

He didn't reply, so I shook him slightly, but he didn't stir. He was completely out. I wondered what to do for a minute, before deciding that I should probably stay with him. After all, he was ten feet in the air and totally wasted. I covered his sleeping form with a blanket, then settled down next to him. After a few moments, I felt his arm reach round and pull me closer to him.

"Edward, you are so not asleep!"

When his expression didn't change, I snuggled into his warm chest. I marvelled that I could feel completely at home for the first time in my life, while cuddled up to an ex-convict in a tree house. The gentle rise and fall of his heartbeat was tonic for my restlessness, lulling me to sleep as nothing else had or could.

* * *

**A/N Please remember that I would love to receive a review!**


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